


Terrestrial

by susiephalange



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, BAMF Natasha Romanov, Deaf Clint Barton, F/M, Female!Reader - Freeform, Fluff, Pining, Protective Thor, Thor Is Not Stupid, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-27
Updated: 2016-09-27
Packaged: 2018-08-18 03:56:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8148358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/susiephalange/pseuds/susiephalange
Summary: Reader has led a somewhat lonely life, and being in love with Thor, Prince of Asgard doesn't do much to help her with that.





	

**Author's Note:**

> TBH I wrote this because Thor needs a lot more love and fics and I really love his beard.

 

By the time he returns, the clouds have disappeared and dissipated to another region to darken. There will never be a day where he stays. He is restless, he is a traveller at heart. By the time he returns, your shopping has been tucked into the cupboard, restocked and waiting to play house once more. The home is dusted. Clean. . Lawn mown. DVR cleared, up to date with more storage than ever before.

By the time he returns, you are passed out on the couch, the small lounge that faces the patio. He lets himself in with his tiny key, the rumble of his ancient truck not waking you. His gaze rests upon the goosebumps across your limbs, having never been truly accustomed to the chilled breezes he carries in his wake. You stir, just as he picks you up, and feel the butterflies that live in your stomach leap to life.

"Thor," you murmur. "I meant to -,"

He places a kiss upon your brow. "Hush, you need to rest. You've been busy."

If you were more awake, you might have fought back in a jesting, playful mood, but your eyelids are heavy, aching to feel the hand of sleep invite you into the land of dreams. 

By the time you wake, the bed is warm and full, and so is your hand. Your eyes do not have to be open to know that Thor's hand swallows yours, cupping it within his fingers, stroking your skin as ever-so lightly as the warrior can.

"Good morning, my love," he whispers.

Your chest leaps once more at his words; wherever did he learn to make your pulse race so? Your eyes focus on the room around you, but more importantly, on the blonde-haired man, roped with thick muscle, with the clearest eyes you had ever lain your own on.

"I almost can't believe you made it," you breathe. The air is cold, a cloud from your lips, but it means nothing but the fact that winter is coming, that autumn is here. "I remembered to stock up on instant coffee, and I fixed the tractor," you turn your hand in Thor's grasp, sliding your fingers through his.

"My love," Thor's eyes have another look to them. They're as expressive as the sky itself, and at the moment, the blue pupils are clouded by untold news. "I can't...stay long this time. There are tidings of war coming to my land. I'm sorry."

You nod, raising your gaze to the ceiling. "I understand, Thor."

You had been learned enough over time to hold in the disappointment that would otherwise weep out, seep into your mood. Thor was to be king, soon to be king. He was first and foremost a prince of Asgard, an Avenger, then your lover. Even though you had spent time with the other heroes, and were called his girlfriend, it still felt like he wasn't serious. To be honest, nothing did.

"_______-," his voice is deep, your name a rumble of thunder in his throat. "Look at me," he pleads. You comply, and he adds, "I know it seems like all you do is wait. A day shall come where you and I will be together. Always." He promises.

But you can only doubt.

By the time you are outside, it isn't to water the garden or clean the windows again. It's to see off Thor, this time not in his rusting truck, but with his armour and regalia, hammer in hand. The sky is clear, but his eyes, they are clouded with something deeper than what you feel you can comprehend.

He leaves as soon as he comes.

By the time you are outside once again, the sky has changed, bearing heavy clouds filled with rain. You've done your work for the week, and emailed your family in an idyl hour, and still, there is something in filling your days with things that feels so empty.

When you are out, you sit in the grass, surrounded by nature. If you did not live so remotely, a neighbour would not be able to see you, hidden away from the world. If you couldn't see it, it didn't exist. The wind surrounds you, running through your empty chest as if you are not corporeal.

By the time you trick yourself to sleep, it isn't too long into the night you wake from a terror. It's the same dream every time, the flashes you feel in lonely moments. But the bed is bare beside you, and your throat thick with unshed sobs.

You lay awake for the rest of that night. Or, until you check the alarm clock, and decide there at two in the morning on something new. You shed your nightshirt, and donning day clothes, clothes and essentials shoved carelessly into a bag, you pick the keys from the stand, and the old key to the aged truck.

By five, you're well over the boarder, the wind pushing through your hair, a remedy you had forgot healed your ailment. There was something freeing about being out, driving toward somewhere you hadn't been for a while. Right on seven, you arrive there, stopping the old truck in the parking lot between a sleek Porsche and a minivan.

A familiar face greets you by the entrance, the good captain Steve Rogers,  Captain America himself. His blonde crop, short and formal sways in the breeze, a smile on his face.

"We've missed you, _________," he grips you deep in embrace, his form similar to your Asgardian significant other. It would comfort you, but Steve smells not of iron and grass, but sweat and cinnamon.  "You know, when we said you can stay whenever you want, we meant it."

You nod, "I actually came for that reason. I...I've realised I've been alone for a long time, longer than anyone should be. I won't be a burden, I promise," you swear. 

Steve waves you off. "You don't worry about a thing, _______." he beams, leading you into the compound. "In fact, Tony was asking about you the other day..." 

By the time you trick yourself to sleep, you find yourself startled awake by something. You were sleeping in Thor's allotted room, surrounded by the blankets that barely smelt like him anymore, and a thin layer of dust from the derelict state of it all. In the hour you had been asleep, the storm has come, and layering the earth with the fury of its force. The glass wall beside you is awash with water, dripping with rain like a shower of tears. In the moonlight, you curse yourself for being so attached to someone who couldn't be. You curse yourself for the nightmares, the terrors and bad dreams that echo of your history of attracting trouble. You curse yourself for even coming to the compound. But the smiles - you hadn't seen Wanda Maximoff so animated, not for the longest of times. 

A crash sounds, closer than what would have sounded of thunder. From within the bed, you flinch, pulling your arms, swathed in Thor's sweatshirts closer to your chest. It was an odd mix, you, a civilian and a hero. But you made it work, as best you could.

"Where is ______?" His voice is loud, angry, thick with emotion. He is thunder, he is a power to be reckoned with. "She left the home, she comes -," 

You feet thrust you from the bed, and stumbling, you run to the door, out to the commotion. Though you're barely dressed, the same goes for the rest of the crowds; Steve's sweatpants clash with Tony's doughnut boxers, and Nat wears an oversized football jersey. Thor, stands in the centre of the commotion, dripping wet onto the tiles, hair plastered to his skin, his armour and cape stark and brazen among the rest of the off-duty uniforms. 

"What's wrong?" you ask.

His eyes find you, and in few strides, you are crushed against Thor, inhaling his scent, soaking up his rainwater and presence like a once bone-dry sponge. The last you saw of him, he was domestic, and beautiful, but now, you can feel the presence he has, the raw power that emanates from within him. 

"________, my love, Heimdall warned me of something being wrong," he breathes into your neck, but even his lowered tone still carries his signature rumble. "I came as fast as I could, I ... I cannot bear it any longer, I - I love you _______ -," 

"Is this a freaking marriage proposal?" Clint rubs his jaw, stifling a yawn. "You break in at three in the morning to propose to your girlfriend?"

Thor nods.

Tony's eyes widen. "The extra-terrestrial is gonna make his terrestrial extra!" he whispers, and from his side, he gives you a thumb up. 

"Thor, are you -," you ask.

He nods. "I love you. I do not care if I receive the throne or not, but you shall make a fine Queen and Allmother of Asgard if I do. You and I have been _going out_ for three years, and I do not wish to go another day with you not being more to you." His words do not run straight through you, they do not graze your knee and heal over. They break down the barriers you had built for all of your life after - after what happened. His words breathe into your lunges that had once been deflated, useless. They wake you from a sleep you had no idea you had been within. "______, my love, will you be my wife?" 

Your eyes water, but for once, they do not echo what Thor creates in the sky, what he did to his enemies. They echo yourself. "I - yes." you gasp, wrapping your arms around his chest, and add, "Yes, Thor." 

"This is going to make a great story one day," Nat grins, her smile wide and white. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to bed before I kill anyone." 

By the time you comprehend it all, you are within the arms of the man you have the deepest feelings for, and who has proved, that he too has them too. The bed is warm, thick arms rope you close to his chest, his heartbeat, steady and calming by your ear.

All is well.

**Author's Note:**

> If you have any requests, find me on Tumblr at @susiephalange, or [@phalangewrites](https://phalangewrites.tumblr.com/request_conditions) ʕ·ᴥ·ʔ✿


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